


playing with fire (we'll all get burned)

by ang3lba3



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: ...sort of, Actor Roy Mustang, Alcoholism and drugs (weed), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Edward Elric, M/M, Non-Chronological, Second Chance Romance, Trans Edward Elric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22203157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3
Summary: A non-chronological, nonsensical love story between two soldiers during and after the war. After the war: Roy and Havoc star in the hit indie film Captain Amestris. After the war: Major [redacted] Elric becomes Mr. Edward Elric, an eccentric research professor surrounded by constant scandal. After the war: they have to find their way back to each other, and to what they almost had.See author notes for further warnings and details.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 11
Kudos: 53





	playing with fire (we'll all get burned)

**Author's Note:**

> quick warnings: this is not a super dark fic, it in fact leans quite comedic! that said some of the topics glanced at/covered will include sexual harassment, an unjust and confusing cultural system that is fairly accepting of LGB but still rather intolerant of the T, a cultural standard that prizes monogamy in marriage quite highly to the point of having adultery punishable by law, alcohol & drugs to cope with the trauma of war, the trauma of war, unhealthy habits, and probably suicidal ideation later on. 
> 
> ...that about covers it! uh this thing is old. and i dont think i'll ever finish it if i keep it sitting on my hard drive. so if you wanna see more let me know via comments & kudos and ill kick my ass into writing the rest of it. i've got it rated M for future content, and I might bump it up to E depending on how raunchy it gets. also like, this generally isn't too deep as a story, theres no meaningful analysis of IRL to be gleamed from here. its fast food for the soul

When Roy got back from Ishbal, he hit what he’d call a rough patch.

Riza and Maes both refer to it as a bender.

2016: Roy, Publicity Tour.

“So Roy, straight to the point. Playing Bucky Barnes in the breakout indie hit Captain Amestris was your big break. As a veteran and war hero yourself, what is your take on the movie being a ‘realistic portrayal’, as claimed by the studio?”

“Well, there were certainly less Homunculi involved in my experience with the Ishbalan conflicts! But the fantasy and fictional aspects aside, it did a good job of portraying both the brutality and camaraderie found in a war zone. It was obviously limited in some ways by its PG-13 rating. It was hard to pretend to be a soldier without swearing.”

“I’ve actually never heard of you swearing outside of a movie!”

“That’s because my agent would fuuuuuuuudging kill me.”

“Oh my, we’ll have to bust out the big beep for that one!”

“Please don’t, I still have things to live for.”

“Hahaha—alright, I guess we’ll get it past the editors somehow, Roy. Now, the bond between Bucky and Steve has sparked some questions as to the true nature of their relationship: friends or something more?”

“I don’t write the scripts, so I can’t really answer that.”

“But you do play Bucky! And just look at this clip—when you were looking at Captain Amestris like that, was Bucky looking at him romantically, or just as a friend?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll bite. I’ll say this. When you go through as much stuff together as Bucky and Steve have, you can never be just friends. I’ve known Havoc for a long time, we served together. It’s a special bond, you’re blood brothers. I’ve seen some people with that bond who fall in love, but me and Havoc didn’t. So whether Bucky and Steve did? That’s really up to Central Studios.”

“Oh—I’m afraid that’s all the time we have, I’m getting the red light. Thank you so much for coming on, Roy.”

“How could I resist an interview I didn’t even have to dress up for? It’s been a pleasure, Mae.”

“Same to you! Guys, gals, nonbinary pals, tune into Chan Yao Podcast Productions next week to hear from Captain Amestris himself: Jean Havoc! Until next time!”

2017: Edward, Publicity Tour.

“...and now that we've talked a bit about your frankly amazing scientific and alchemic accomplishments lately, let's turn to the personal sphere. There have been many conflicting rumors about your personal life, lately. Namely, that you and your wife Winry were married under false pretenses.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard ‘em. What fuckin’ pretenses were we supposed to get married under in the first place? We love each other, we live together, we’re raising twins who don’t have object permanency down yet, an’ we haven’t murdered each other over a container of Pringles, so I’d say we’re doing pretty damn well.”

“Really, it’s the idea of what _kind_ of love you two share that’s being disputed.”

“Explain, I’m too autistic to get what the hell you’re hinting at.”

“Um…”

“Autistic. Yeah. It ain’t a dirty word, Yao, you won't even have to bleep it. Don’t look so scandalized, just get to the fuckin’ point.”

“Ahem. To be frank, the rumor is that you are gay, and Winry is actually dating your brother Alphonse, who also lives with you and participates in raising the children.”

“Wow. Y’all some kinda fucked up.”

“That’s why I was trying to be subtle, Mr Elric.”

“Call me Ed if you’re gonna say that kind of shit to me.”

“Alright, Ed.”

“Good. Now that that’s cleared up, let’s get something straight: I’m not.”

“So the rumors are false?”

“No, you fucking moron, I’m gay. Just like I was when I married Winry, though the public perception of what I _mean_ by that changed when I transitioned. Winry and me both knew the right way of lookin' at it, o'course, entire time.”

“…excuse me?”

“Rumors are true, dickhead.”

“Mr Elric where are you—”

“It’s family night, if I’m not home in the next half hour Winry’s gonna kill me and the twins are gonna throw a fit and next thing you know Al’s gonna be refusing to take sides and it’ll be a whole thing. Plus, if I get there fast enough I can stop them from getting some Cretan takeout disaster with no meat and too much cheese.”

“Mr-!”

“I told you to call me Ed!”

“…well, listeners, Edward Elric has just admitted to being gay and a consenting cuckold to his brother before running out the studio door. He also implied... I think... that this is not a new development in any way. I’m going to sign off, because honestly I need to lie down for a bit before adding all the censors to the podcast. This has been Ling, filling in for Sheska on Sheska’s Shack, bringing you the latest of the scientific world.”

***

When Ed gets back from Ishval, he goes through what he’d grudgingly admit to as a ‘rough patch’.

Winry, Al, and his medical records refer to it as a PTSD induced nervous breakdown. 

***

2015: the Bender, starring Ed.

“Al, no stop, just, stop talking. Listen. Shhh. No, listen to your big brother.” Ed said, wobbling dangerously and slurring his words. “There is nothing wrong with making your own beer. People have been doing it since civilization _started_.”

“Ed this is not beer, this is a _health hazard!_ Even sober you shouldn’t be performing such complicated alchemy without an array, you know it can backfire!”

“Al. Al I need you not to take this personally.” Ed placed a hand on Al’s shoulder and missed, smacking his brother in the neck instead. “I’m a better alchemist drunk than anyone in this goddamn country is sober.”

“No, what you _are_ is impossible, and an _alcoholic_.”

Ed made a face, and burped. It smelled like beer and hot dogs. It was far from a pleasant combination, especially when Al realized this meant his brother had probably been eating nothing but raw hot dogs and vitamins since the last time Al had seen him nearly a month ago.

He never should have let Ed move so far away.

“Alcohol is the best goddamn thing to ever happen to the entire WORLD, Alphooonsseee, and I can prove it.”

“Brother,” Al said despairingly.

Ed shook a finger in his brother’s face. “With science. Fuckin. I’ll use science, then you’ll see. Civilizations were _built_ on alcohol.”

Al sighed, and started gently guiding his brother towards the couch. Once, he would have been able to just carry Ed to his bedroom, but the automail was too heavy for him to even attempt that now. If Al hadn’t seen the corded muscle that comprised most of Ed’s flesh body, he wouldn’t have been able to believe that Ed could even move under the weight of it.

“Why don’t you get some rest, brother?” Al asked gently, settling Ed down with surprisingly little protest. 

“It’s ‘ard to sleep, sometimes,” Ed said just as Al was walking away to fetch blankets, a pillow, and the probably-necessary-bucket. “Jus’… can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ‘im, y’know?”

Al’s hands curled into fists at his side. “I know brother. I know.”

***

2018: Present day, Roy.

Roy wakes to someone banging on his door, and groans.

“Who!” he yells, stretching but not actually standing yet. It feels like every single joint in his body cracks as he does. 

Apparently, 32 is too fucking old to fall asleep on the couch sitting up.

“Banana!”

Fuck.

Roy stands and heads for the door, limping because one leg’s asleep and the other is cramping. 

The knocking continues.

“Maes, goddamnit, I am not playing this game!” Roy shouts, and when he finally reaches the door he jerks it wide open to stare into the grinning face of his best friend.

“Good morning to you too!” Maes says, sweeping past Roy and into the apartment. His eyes land on the coffee table and then turn to glare at Roy.

“Weed’s been legal in Amestris for almost two months, you don’t have to look at me like that,” Roy complains, and heads for the kitchen. Fuck, he needs some coffee. Marijuana always makes him groggy as hell the morning after.

“I don’t look at you any particular way,” Maes says archly, and sweeps past Roy again to get to the coffee maker. He starts to prepare a pot, moving through Roy’s kitchen as easily as he would his own. It makes Roy’s heart hurt, but not as much as it used to.

Time heals all wounds wasn’t an adage for no reason.

“So why are you here, Maes?” Roy asks, leaning against the counter. He wishes, not for the first time, that he’d gotten a kitchen big enough to fit a table in. He could certainly afford better than this tiny single bed and bath apartment now. Every day he’d wonder why he hadn’t moved, and every day—

“I live one floor up, Roy, and we both know you won’t eat breakfast unless I drag you to my place by the ear and Gracia and Elicia work their charm on you.”

“I don’t know if I’d use the word charm. Intimidation, maybe. Blackmail. Female sorcery.”

“Charisma and cuteness!” Maes corrects. Roy rolls his eyes. “You could learn a lot from them, you know.”

Roy grinds his teeth and counts to ten before replying. He only does so because he knows Maes absolutely wasn’t attempting a slight at their failed relationship. Maes barely thinks of their failed relationship at all, anymore. 

“I’m not the only one,” he finally manages, and it doesn’t even sound forced.

“Oh, screw you,” Maes says amicably. There’s enough coffee done for a travel mug, and Maes pours it in and adds the right amount of cream and sugar. “Here, get as much of this as you can in you before we get to my apartment.”

“Is that out of concern for my clumsiness without caffeine, or my general aggression before coffee?”

“It’s concern for how you can disguise aggression as clumsiness so effortlessly even when you’re half asleep. I’ve still got bruises from when you ‘accidentally’ tripped me last week.”

“That was an accident! Ask anyone who was there.”

“You mean my lovely daughter and wife, who are dazzled completely by your ridiculous charm and thus didn’t see the way you elbowed me when you helped me stand up?”

“So I do have charm, hm?”

2013: Edward's Shotgun Wedding

“Ed. We’re doing this,” Winry said, staring him down. 

Ed glanced at the door to the local court building and groaned, then looked at Al pleadingly.

“Brother, I really don’t mind,” Al said, and placed a hand on Ed’s shoulder. Ed frowned up at him. “I promise.”

“Don’t I get a say in this? You know forced marriage is illegal, right,” Ed asked, only half joking.

“You’d get a say in it _if_ you hadn’t enlisted!” Winry punched him in the shoulder, but not nearly as hard as she could have. Her face softened when his expression changed to genuine annoyance. “Look, Ed. You’re my best friend, and you have a penchant for getting into trouble. If something happens to you, god forbid, I want to know. I want to be there. And right now, I’m only family in sentiment.”

Ed reached out and hugged her, fiercely. 

“I’m going to be _fine,_ gearhead. You worry too much.”

Al’s arms wrapped around both of them easily. He was turning into a goddamn giant, and Ed was still tiny. It was a fucking shame.

“I worry the perfect amount about you! You’re a magnet for trouble, Edward Elric.”

“You’re only in it for the widow’s pension,” Ed joked, and regretted it immediately when Winry and Al simultaneously pulled back to scowl at him.

“Don’t even joke!” they said as one.

“Fuck. Fine. Fine.” Ed rubbed a hand over his face. 

“Besides,” Winry said, and her mouth turned down with discomfort at even having to say the words. “They’re bound to be more respectful of a…”

She can’t even get it out, so Ed says it for her.

“A married queer woman than a trans man. Or than a _single_ queer woman.” Ed rubbed his forehead, and hooked an arm in Winry’s to show he wasn’t upset with her. “This nation is really illogical, Win.”

Winry pressed a kiss to Ed’s cheek, and Alphonse pressed a kiss to the top of Ed’s head. 

“Yeah,” Al said, not moving his face from the top of Ed’s head until Ed stepped forward purposefully and out of his range.

“Let’s do this,” Ed said, squaring his shoulders and adjusting the strap of his sundress. 

2015: Edward, War Time.

 _“You’re_ the Fullmetal Alchemist?” the dark haired asshole who was supposed to be leading the training said. Zoomba? Zoloft? Zebra? Shit, what the fuck was his name?

“Yessir,” Ed said, keeping his face as even as possible. 

“Tiny little thing,” he said. The appraising once over went on a lot longer, a lot more appreciatively, than it needed to. 

Ed managed not to snarl, and instead closed his eyes. If he had to look Zilch… Zamboni…

Zaachmann! That was it. Shit, that sounded nothing like the names he’d been thinking of. He really had to get his shit together.

He opened his eyes, sufficiently calmed and distracted by the small victory of remembering this guy’s name.

“How big are you?” Zaachman asked, once Ed failed to react to the leer. He didn’t say tall, but Ed’s pretty sure that’s because he’s not asking about _height_.

“152 centimeters, sir,” Edward said, just barely keeping from tacking on the “.4” like some kind of elementary student. Not that he’d ever really been one. He was home schooled, in the grandest tradition of autistic child prodigies everywhere.

Zaachman leered even more pointedly at Ed’s chest. “Really?”

“Yessir.” 

_Please_ ask him his cup size. _Please_ give him an excuse to report Zaachman for attempting adulterous seduction. This country might not be logical, but what it believed in - monogamy - it believed in with all its goddamn heart and judicial system. 

Zaachamn opened his mouth with the special type of glint in his eyes that precedes a truly bad decision, and Ed sent a prayer of thanks out to whoever was listening.

2015: Roy, War Time.

Roy didn’t need a new scientist. He definitely didn’t need a new scientist with big gold eyes and long gold hair and pouting lips and a carefuly concealed fire in her soul that threatened to burn anyone who got near. 

He had his own fires to put out. He didn’t need another arsonist on staff.

“Major Elric?”

“Yessir,” Elric says, standing at impeccable attention.

“At ease, Major,” Roy says, and temples his fingers. Elric has a…certain reputation. The perfect soldier, a wind up toy that can spout regulation with punctiation included if you pull her string. Does anything you ask, does it perfectly the first time, and never makes any trouble.

Every single commander has, as far as Roy can tell, gone mad trying to prickle her into reacting emotionally. And each commander has been thoroughly beaten to death with the book.

“Alright,” he says. That fire behind her eyes makes him nervous. His own reaction to those eyes, to that fire, makes him nervous. It’s not a good enough reason to refuse a valuable asset. And besides, she’s married. To a woman. That’s as safe as he can get. “Welcome to the team.”

**Author's Note:**

> find ang3lba3 on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cryingiscooltm)


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